


I Can't Do It Like This

by Saraste



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Introspection laced with smut, It's Bitey time and Stiles doesn't wanna, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both thought the bite would be easier to bear if Derek distracted Stiles while he did it, as they go along with the scheme, Stiles realizes what a mistake it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Can't Do It Like This

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for prompt #79 bite at the LJ multi-fandom biweekly prompt comm hentai_contest.
> 
> Also, my first ever Teen Wolf fic (that I've finished so far).

There’s a scape of fangs against the skin of Stiles’ all-too-vulnerable-all-too-human shoulder, a thrill of anticipation laced with dread coursing through him. He knows that he’s said that he wants it, that he’s willing, but now that the moment’s here, he’s anxious, scared. He’s not even babbling, too stunned and _everything_ to say anything.

The sinful glide of their groins sliding against one another is making it hard to think, keep hold of the thought that anything’s wrong. The thrill of coming brought to the brink over and over, doesn’t help, either.

Then, as he gasps, as Derek’s poised on his shoulder, ready to bite, Stiles know he can’t do it, not like this. If they do, Stiles’ is not sure how he could ever have sex with Derek again. He’s not sure he could ever overcome the memory of the pain, a memory etched into the way Derek looks at him now, the way he throbs, so-so-hot, against him. 

“Stop.” 

Stiles had assured Derek that he wouldn’t say it, as much as Derek had assured him that he had every right to say no, make him stop, if he wasn’t a hundred percent sure, and that he’d stop, really stop, if Stiles so much as asked. And here he is, asking, and feeling like he’s letting Derek down as he does. He feels a rant bubbling inside, words wanting to rush out but, but can’t say more. His hand is on Derek’s, even when that doesn’t mean a thing against werewolf strength.

Red eyes look at him, fangs now away from his shoulder, away from fragile human skin. But the throbbing of arousal, of Derek’s hardness against his own desire, now starting to wilt as he gasps shakily, is still there. 

“Why?” It’s an apt question, growled out with a slightly accusing, somewhat disappointed tone. Derek’s shaking, barely holding his urge, to bite-bite-bite, in check. Stiles knows, feels how much Derek wants to give in to his alpha instincts and just ride roughshod over what _he_ wants. 

Stiles looks at Derek, taking a deep breath, worried that Derek’s taking offense to his softening. But he can’t. 

“Cos I can’t do it like this…” His voice cracks and he chokes. He really, really can’t. Derek’s still hard against his own now totally wilting arousal, killed by the thought of never being able to enjoy sex with Derek ever again.

“Like what?” Derek pretends, or so Stiles hopes, to not get the point. The alpha isn’t _that_ stupid, after all. 

“With us having sex,” Stiles huffs. “Can’t you imagine how it’ll link with, oh, I don’t know, the _excruciating_ pain of you biting me?!” His voice rises but he doesn’t care. It’s not like he’s afraid of Derek, well not at the moment anyway. In the end, he’s almost shouting. He’s never been this scared in his life and knows Derek can hear his heart beating a mile a minute.

“Oh!” It’s all Derek has to say. _Of course._

Derek drops next to Stiles on the bed, lying on his side so his hard-on is still connected with Stiles, pressed against his thigh. “Well, we don’t _have_ to do it this way,” he finally concedes, his hand stroking the shoulder he was about to maul.

Stiles closes his eyes, a tension leaving him. He lets them stay closed for a little while more, liking the way Derek strokes him, takes his hands and kisses his knuckles. His alpha is showing admirable restraint, well, ok, so he kinda humps Stiles’ hip on the sly. It’s not like Stiles’ has ever taken him for a monk or anything. 

In the end, Stiles opens his eyes and turns to look first into Derek’s red gleaming eyes then down at where his boyfriend’s humping him. “Want me to help you with that? Cos, as long as there’s no bite…” He suggests, wiggling his hips. It’s not like he’s a monk, either. The bite can wait.

Derek’s on him in a flash.


End file.
